His hands moved up under your shirt, pressing against your stomach and then sliding higher, toward your breast. You felt his sharp nails scrape across your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You wanted to cry out, to beg him to stop, but you knew that would only make things worse.
As he continued to torture you, your body went numb from the pain. You tried to focus on anything else, but all you could feel was his breath against your skin, his hands touching you, his teeth scraping against your flesh. You felt like you were nothing more than an object in his possession, to be used and abused as he saw fit.
You could feel yourself starting to slip away, losing consciousness from the sheer agony of it all. You wondered if this was how it would end, if he would kill you here and now. The thought terrified you, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief. Perhaps death would be a welcome escape from this never-ending nightmare.
With a final, savage twist, he pulled his hand away, leaving you gasping for breath and curled up in a ball on the cold, hard ground. You could feel blood dripping down your chest and pooling beneath you, staining the floor. You were barely aware of him moving away, of the fire dying down to embers. All you could focus on was the burning pain that seemed to consume your entire body.
As your vision began to blur and darkness crept in at the edges of your sight, you tried one last time to summon the strength to fight back, to escape. But it was no use. You were too weak, too broken. In the end, you could only lie there and wait for the oblivion of unconsciousness to claim you.
And as the last rays of light faded from your world, you couldn't help but wonder if there was some small part of you that would survive this, if there was some part of you that would ever be free again.
You felt his warm breath on your neck, his hands exploring every inch of your skin, as if he were trying to memorize every curve and every hollow. He kissed you, not like a lover, but like a predator claiming his prize. His lips moved from your neck to your shoulder, then lower still, to the valley between your breasts. He suckled at your flesh, drawing blood as he left angry red marks on your skin.
As his lips trailed lower still, you felt a sharp pain as he bit down on your inner thigh. You cried out, the sound muffled by the pillow, but the pain was exquisite. It was as if he were trying to mark you as his own, branding you with his possession.
You tried to struggle, to break free from his hold, but his strength was overwhelming. He was like a wild animal, untamed and unyielding, and you were nothing more than his prey. You felt his teeth rake across your hip, drawing more blood, and you knew that if you didn't do something soon, you would bleed to death.
But what could you do? How could you possibly fight back against someone so powerful, so determined to possess you completely? You were trapped, helpless, and the knowledge that he could do this to you whenever he wanted was like a knife twisting in your gut.
You were nothing more than his plaything, his source of pleasure and pain. And as he continued to suck your blood, you found yourself growing sleepy, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.
But no one came. No one ever did.
